


My Fault

by paranoid_parallax



Series: You're Not Alone [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abusive Parents, Allura (Voltron) Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Apologies, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Lotor (Voltron) Lives, Mentioned Haggar (Voltron), Mentioned Zarkon (Voltron), Parent Death, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Planet Destruction, Self-Hatred, Survivor Guilt, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22098121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranoid_parallax/pseuds/paranoid_parallax
Summary: Despite hating Haggar/Honerva and repeatedly rejecting her as his mother while she was alive, Lotor is overwhelmed with feelings of guilt after her death.Allura finds him alone in the witch's old lab, and they both attempt to talk about some of the things they've been bottling up for far too long.
Relationships: Allura/Lotor (Voltron)
Series: You're Not Alone [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590568
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	My Fault

**Author's Note:**

> (set in an AU where Voltron was sacrificed instead of Allura, and Lotor survived the rift)

Lotor sat on the floor of Haggar’s old lab, staring at the helmet in his hands.

Honerva’s helmet, her creation, the last she’d worn; she had given it to him before surrendering and walking to her death.

_Why?_ Why, after years of hurting him, did she suddenly seem to care— to view him as her son, if only for a moment?

Lotor wasn’t sure if he could see her as his mother in return, even if he had felt a kind of gut-wrenching, sickening guilt since her death. It was complicated. The witch was not his mother. Honerva— long-dead, uncorrupted, amazing Honerva— was. The knowledge that they were one person had been hard enough to process on its own, but her last attempt at returning to what had once been had felt simultaneously shallow and loving, which was even more confusing. He couldn’t tell whether to add it to the familiar list of empty-hearted _I did this for you, now come back to me_ gestures, or consider it a genuine effort to mend their broken relationship and right her many wrongs.

Even the helmet he was holding now fell under this same question, he realized as he turned it over in his hands. Had she given it to him to produce the sick guilty feeling that had plagued him since, to twist the knife one final time as revenge for his repeated and angry rejections of her? Or had it been meant as a sincere apology?

Perhaps neither, merely a token to remember her by— but then, to remember what part of her? Was it meant as a warning not to go down the same path, not to make the same mistakes? A reminder that she had been a near-unstoppable force until the end, an encouragement to replace her in the quest for power— maybe even to bring her _back_ from the dead someday?

His pulse quickened and his hands trembled at the thought, nearly causing him to drop the helmet. Instead, he set it down carefully on the floor in front of him. Part of him was overwhelmed with disgust at the thought of Haggar returning, the other almost hopeful that he could someday, somehow restore Honerva to life— but Honerva _was_ Haggar, he reminded himself. Even if she had been nothing like the witch before her transformation, she had proven unable to get truly rid of Haggar’s personality afterward. They had seemed distinct once, but there was no separating them anymore.

“Lotor? Are you alright?”

Resisting an instinctive panic at being snuck up on, he turned his head, externally calm, to look at the Altean princess standing in the doorway. At the sight of her, he even managed a small smile. “I will be.”

Cautiously, Allura took a few steps into the lab, glancing around a little nervously as the door closed behind her. That was fair— the witch’s old lair often made him anxious too. “You have her helmet,” she observed.

“Yes.”

“How long have you been staring at that thing?” she asked, clearly trying to force some levity into her tone.

“A while, I suppose.”

“Do you… want to talk about anything?”

“Oh, no,” he said quickly. “There’s no need for you to worry about it.”

“Lotor.” Her voice was gentle but firm. “We’ve talked about this. You know you can trust me, right? You don’t have to do everything alone anymore.”

_It’s not safe to do otherwise,_ his brain insisted. _Trust is a weakness._

No. He had to at least learn to let Allura in, if no one else. He took a deep breath.

“Honerva was a genius,” he began finally. “She had so much potential. And it’s my fault she’s gone.”

“Lotor, she destroyed countless realities! She wanted to _kill_ you for not accepting her as your mother after everything she’s done.”

He shrugged, not looking up. “At least she cared how I felt at all. That’s more than I can say for my father.”

“She saw you as a puppet.”

“Because she was better than me and she knew it. I can’t believe you all managed to get her to give up somehow— she had lost her mind by the end, she must have. She was always one step ahead…”

“You’re not really wishing she was still alive, are you?” The princess was clearly trying to keep the disgust out of her voice, but it wasn’t working.

“I… I don’t know.”

Allura sat down beside him, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t understand why I feel this way,” he said quietly. “I hated Haggar when she was alive— but I loved Honerva, who I thought was dead, before I knew she was _her_ , and then I hated her too when I found out— and now that she’s really gone for good, I just feel… guilty.” He sighed. “I know she was a horrible person in the end, but she was an incredible scientist before her contact with the rift. She could have been a force for good…” He laughed weakly. “It all started with me, didn’t it.”

“What do you mean?”

“When she was pregnant with me, that’s when everything began falling apart.”

“Lotor, you didn’t choose to be born.”

“But I _was_. And it marked the end of her goodness, of her happiness, of her using her abilities for anything other than torture and selfish gain.” He couldn’t look his girlfriend in the eyes. “Clearly, I was a mistake.”

“I thought they wanted to have you… at one point, anyway.”

“Oh, they did.” A harsh, bitter laugh escaped him. “Not an accident, a _mistake_. A decision that should never have been made. If not for me, millions would still be alive. Even putting aside the… difficult decisions I’ve had to make myself, if my parents hadn’t met— hadn’t married— hadn’t stayed together through everything, hadn’t had _me_ — then it would all have been so different. Honerva might have at least died a hero in the pursuit of knowledge rather than like _this_ — rather than having _become_ this. Without his witch, Zarkon might have stayed on Daibazzal, or at least within nearby star systems at the furthest, instead of conquering most of the universe.” He paused. “What I told you on Oriande— how Zarkon destroyed an entire planet because he didn’t like me trying to work with its inhabitants— that was true, you know.”

“Of course!” Allura replied a bit too quickly.

“I’ve never lied to you,” Lotor added quietly. “Omitted some things, I’ll admit, but everything I’ve told you has been true.”

When he glanced up at her, the princess looked somewhat guilty. “I didn’t mean— I mean, I’m sorry for— for jumping to conclusions. Before. I’m sorry for throwing you, I—”

He waved a hand. “Not your fault. We all have our weak points. Things that make us lose control.” Eyes trained nervously on the helmet again, he continued, “Anyway, I suppose you saw my side of that soon afterward, during the battle between Sincline and Voltron. I said things I didn’t really mean, but I know that doesn’t take it back… I’m sorry too.”

“Well, I accept your apology. And I’m sorry for comparing you to— him.”

“That’s alright. We both said things we shouldn’t have, and probably me more so than you.” At least, so he assumed. In truth, he didn't remember most of the fight, and had had to be reminded of many of its events while recovering after he was rescued from the merge with Sincline— rescued from his own mother, he realized.

_She saw you as a puppet._ Well, apparently she had practically used him like one, so he supposed Allura had a point.

“I love you, you know.”

Startled, he glanced up at her. That was the first time she’d said _that_ in the few weeks since they’d begun to rekindle their relationship.

Allura looked so sincere, but could he trust her— trust _anyone_? Warily, he replied, “I love you too.” For all that he had forgiven her, and that he loved her, he wasn’t ready to stop constantly watching his back.

Lotor doubted he would ever be. A life like his was not at all conducive to trust. That was fine— being externally part of a group, but internally alone, was familiar. His family, his generals, and now Team Voltron… it was always the same. The only thing that ever surprised him about betrayal was its timing, or perhaps the specific details, never the fact that it had happened at all.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked softly, and he resisted the instinct to jump backward at being startled.

“Just more regret, I suppose.”

There was silence for a moment.

Inching closer, Allura rested her head on his shoulder. “You know…” She seemed hesitant. “Sometimes I feel guilty too. For my parents’ death— my _planet’s_ death— I should have done more. I should have been there— at least, I should have died with them instead of woken up in a pod to find everyone but myself and Coran _gone_.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. There’s nothing you could have done.”

“It isn’t your fault, though. Painful, traumatizing, and so on is one thing, but please don’t feel _guilty_ for being one of the only survivors of Altea.” Slipping an arm around her, he kissed the top of her head gently, running a hand idly through her long white hair. “If not for you, most of the universe would likely have fallen to Zarkon’s empire. You’ve saved so many people, Allura. Which is certainly more than I can say for myself, despite a ten-thousand-year head start.”

“You did your best.”

“That hardly helps my case, does it?” He laughed, and then she was laughing too, although he saw the tears standing in her eyes.

“No, but really,” she managed finally, wiping at her eyes. “You are a hero too.”

“I’m afraid I have to disagree.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Lotor blinked at her for a moment in surprise before they both began laughing again.

“It’s not your fault for being born, Lotor.”

_Serious again._ He suppressed a grimace at the sudden shift. Her moods could change rather quickly sometimes. It wasn’t unfamiliar, but it was slightly unnerving to now have someone else who reminded him of himself in all the worst ways.

Functioning seemingly fine until the wrong button was pushed. Ready to snap in a heartbeat if _certain things_ came up. Trying to ignore those things, to crush them down and put on a brave face for her team— for her cause—

_Quiznak._

They had almost _too_ much in common, and he wasn’t sure whether to love it or hate it, but at least he knew he loved her.

He’d never intended to, of course. This was a weakness he couldn’t afford. Yet here he was, indulging in something as dangerous and risky and foolish as _love_.

Oh, well. Too late to turn back now.

“Really,” she was saying. “You can’t blame yourself for the bad decisions of two people who’ve treated you horribly since you were born.”

“Why not?”

His attempt at lightening the mood fell flat, and Allura looked a little sad. “Because you deserved better parents than them. You deserved a chance to be happy.”

“Well, now I have one, don’t I?”

“Yes. Which is why you should get rid of that thing and move on.” She gestured at Honerva’s helmet.

Placing a hand on it protectively, Lotor bristled at her obvious contempt. “I am _not_ getting rid of the last thing my mother gave me, no matter what she’s done, no matter how much I hated her. Stay out of this. Please,” he added more weakly.

Allura looked faintly ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

She returned his smile, though both were somewhat subdued. “Just please don’t blame yourself for what your parents did.”

“They were happy once, you know. They weren’t always evil. I ruined their lives.”

“Is that what they made you think?”

He stared at her, confused. “It’s just _true_.”

“No, it isn’t. The rift ruined their lives, and they took it out on you, along with millions of other innocent people. Stop blaming yourself.”

“When you do the same, I will.”

The princess gave him an exaggerated glare for a moment, then a sigh that broke off into a short, breathy laugh. “Well, we can both see this is going nowhere.”

Lotor smiled. “Glad we’re in agreement, then.”

“Indeed.” Getting to her feet and stretching, she offered him a hand. “Come on. Let’s go get some dinner instead. This can all wait for a day when we’re ready to handle it, right?”

He took her hand, letting her pull him to his feet. "That sounds fine to me."

An unspoken fear that such a day would never come hovered over both of them. At least for the time being, however, it was considerably easier to ignore now that they were no longer quite as alone. The pair made their way down the hall, talking and laughing— each of their minds hard at work behind the cheerful exterior, scrambling to shove oceans of dredged-up trauma back into the neat little box where they belonged.


End file.
